


Angel Of Death

by PeachGlitch



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, The Addams Family (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Mild Smut, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachGlitch/pseuds/PeachGlitch
Summary: Gomez takes care of Morticia while she’s ill and after she recovers.
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Angel Of Death

**Author's Note:**

> While writing this I had Gomez and Morticia from the 1990’s films in mind.

Due to Morticia’s already extremely porcelain hue, Gomez hadn’t realised anything was amiss immediately. Her pallid features always looked deathly pale. She’d always looked as if she belonged in a museum, as one of those ornate marble statues. She did not look like any mortal woman; his gothic queen. But Morticia _was_ mortal; and therefore not immune from something as mundane as the common cold.

When her almost transparent skin started to turn more grey than white. And dark unforgiving circles appeared beneath he eyes, Gomez had started to worry. As usual she had brushed off his concern as an overreaction. Insisted that she was fine, and that he shouldn’t trouble himself with his misplaced distress. Reluctantly he had taken her for her word, and let his anxiety dwindle away. Until one evening, or closer to the early hours of the morning really. He’d been woken up by the sound of Morticia groaning in her sleep next to him. At first he’d assumed she was in the midst of a gloriously macabre nightmare. He’d even grinned to himself, as he tried to imagine what delicious horror was playing out in her subconscious. That was until he’d turned on his side and squinted in the darkness to watch her writhe, and noticed the alarming amount of sweat that beaded on her forhead. Within seconds he was fully awake and sitting up in their bed. Wordlessly his hand had found her skin, his concern only heightening as he felt her heated flesh.

“Cara mia.” He whispered lovingly, before placing a haste kiss on her cheek, then moving away and off of the bed. If anyone should have any remedies for this, it would be his mother in law. 

That had been three days ago. And Gomez had refused to let Morticia leave the bed, apart from when she needed to use the bathroom. She wasn’t as grey, but still not quite her usual self. The fact that she’d let him win the argument about staying in bed, told him she definitely wasn’t well. Sickness was something they both found quite riveting. This time however, Gomez felt more sorry for his wife than he did envious. He was watching her from the doorway. Her eyes were closed, though he could tell by her breathing that she wasn’t asleep. The black silk duvet, came to rest just above her hip. Her onyx hair was like a halo on the plush pillow beneath her head. She wasn’t lying horizontally on her back, just slightly upright. “Mon chér, I can feel you staring from the door.” Morticia spoke without opening her eyes. Though a playful smile tugged at the edges of her lips, despite her current state of health.

Gomez grinned and finally pushed himself away from the doorway. Moving to sit next to her on the bed. One arm draped over her form, pressing the weight of his body onto his hand on the mattress. “How are you feeling querida?” He asked, as his free hand hovered over one of hers, before taking hold of it gently and bringing it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Unfortunately not as miserable as a few days ago.” Morticia responded in a hoarse tone, finally fluttering her eyes open. “I’m quite disappointed really, though I’m sure with Winter looming I’m bound to catch another bout of cold.” 

Gomez’s grin turned into a toothy smile at her words. Though he couldn’t help the pang of relief that she was feeling better. “Only a cold, hah! Far to dull for you, no? Come now, darling. I’m sure you can do better than that. Perhaps a virus or some rare infection that will last weeks and weeks?” He played along, despite his hidden anxiety at the thought. This was how they coped when little reminders of their mortality reared into view. As much as they both wanted to rot together for all eternity, the thought of one of them leaving the realm of the living without the other first, was one neither of them liked to contemplate. 

Morticia chuckled under her breath at his words, followed by a small cough. “Now who’s teasing?” She asked, with a raised brow that didn’t look quite as severe with her face lacking its usual dark makeup. “I think I’d like to actually get dressed today though. Perhaps take a walk around the graveyard as well.” She said, then motioned her head towards the window which was covered by heavy velvet drapes. “Tell me my love, is it dismal and grey out there?” 

“The greyest day of the whole year so far if you ask me.” Her responded, before pushing himself up from the bed and walking over to the window. He made a show of dramatically opening the drapes, revealing a rainy, dull, late October day outside for Morticia to see. “Perfect weather for a stroll.” 

Smiling Morticia glanced in the direction of the window. “Marvellous.” She hummed, the sound stirring feelings deep within Gomez. He truly adored her, more than he’d ever anyone else in his life.

Later adorned in her minx fur coat, and with her usual pristine makeup back on her face, Morticia walked next to him through the misty graveyard of their ancestors. Their arms were linked by the elbows, and Gomez couldn’t help but hold on a little tighter than usual. “This is exactly what I needed.” Morticia commented casually as they passed the grave of his great aunt Ophelia. “Nothing like being surrounded by death to invigorate ones health.”

“Meine liebe, words cannot express how glad I am to here that.” Gomez said, stretching out his arm, just so he could wrap his fingers around her wrist and bring her hand up to place gentle kisses on her slender fingers. “Your utter unhappiness is all I want.” He husked, as he breathed in the scent of her skin; something dark and uniquely hers. 

“You’ve not spoken in German to me for a while.” She smirked, “sie müssen besorgt gewesen sein.” (You must of been worried.)

It started to rain harder, though the moisture did not effect Morticia’s pin straight hair. Just added an extra shine to it, if that were possible. “Yes, because the only distress I wish for you is at my hand, not some pathetic illness.” He explained darkly, noticing how her pupils enlarged at his words. 

“And I hope your only in pain when it’s inflicted by _my_ hand.” She agreed, stopping in her tracks just outside the mausoleum. Untangling their hands, she grinned at him as she started to walk backwards from him, until her back hit the side of the structure. “Speaking of...” She trailed, unbuttoning the front of her her coat.

“Oh, Tish. You’re a wicked woman.” He said as he watched her remove her coat, then approached her. “And I’m going to ravish you here for it.” He breathed into her ear as soon as he was close enough, earning him a wanton groan from his wife.

“And then?” She moaned as he began kissing the juncture between her neck and collarbone, once the coat had fallen from her shoulders. 

“And then again, and again and again for eternity.” He answered, pinning her to the mausoleum wall by her hips. “Il mio angelo della morte.” (My angel of death.) 


End file.
